


Collateral

by vix_spes



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom, The Path (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Together, Hannibal Extended Universe, Kaecilius is royalty, M/M, Personal Identity Crisis, Self Confidence Issues, Tumblr Prompt, Unresolved Sexual Tension, based on a gif set
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-05-17 18:42:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14837130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vix_spes/pseuds/vix_spes
Summary: In an attempt to raise the funds he needed for the movement, Cal borrowed money from the wrong people and now they want it back. When he doesn't have it, they're happy to take him instead.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [slashyrogue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashyrogue/gifts).



> Massive thanks to the wonderful HannibalsImago for the beta and cheerleading on this. Based on [this gifset](http://vix-spes.tumblr.com/post/170950476185/hannigramprompts-victorineb)

“Cal, what did you do?”

The tone of Sarah’s voice, that condescending, disparaging quality that Cal hated immediately riled him up. It always made him feel so small and he hadn’t failed to notice that she used the same pitch sometimes when she spoke to the children, both her own and around the compound. He hated that she was jumping down his throat for doing something to try and help the movement, trying to help them. Okay, in hindsight, it may not have been the best idea, but it had seemed like it at the time and he hated that he was having to defend himself. And to Sarah of all people,

“I did what I had to do. To protect us, to protect the Movement.”

“Well it didn’t really work, did it? Or was this your plan all along?”

“What? To receive a demand for all of the loan to be paid back with interest within such a short time? Of course this wasn’t my idea. And I didn’t know it wasn’t going to work when I did it. I was going what I thought was right.”

“Well you thought wrong, Cal. The Zealots? Really? Why did you have to pick them?” Not giving Cal the opportunity to answer, Sarah continued talking. “You need to sort this out, Cal. You can’t expect the movement to clean up your mistakes.”

Before Cal could even open his mouth, she was gone like a veritable whirlwind, leaving Cal in sore need of a drink. He couldn’t have one though, he wouldn’t; he needed to sort this mess out, just like Sarah had said.

The frustrating thing was that Sarah wasn't without culpability in all of this. She had gone with him when they were seeking financial assistance from various people and he knew that she had accepted money from people that were morally grey. Even he had to agree that accepting money from the Zealots was a bad idea. Not that he had known they were Zealots in the first place.

Whilst people outside the community considered Meyerism to be a cult, the Zealots actually were a cult. Probably. They were definitely an offshoot of the Masters of the Mystic Arts, who were also almost definitely a cult. The main compound for the MMA was somewhere called Kamar-Taj in Nepal, if Cal remembered correctly, although they had property in Hong Kong, London and New York as well. They were headed by someone called the Ancient One and that was all anybody knew. And then there were the Zealots. In Cal’s opinion, it was an appalling name for something, cult or not. He didn't know much about them, to be honest, other than that they were very secretive and rich as Croesus. Oh, and rumour had it that their leader - Kaecilius - had once been a Danish prince.

Unfortunately for Cal, he didn't manage to find a way to pay back the money by the imposed deadline, not even close. Neither had Sarah, who had unbent enough to help try and find a solution. Instead, when their representative arrived at the compound, they had nowhere near the required amount and, instead, a crowd had gathered to witness Cal’s failure. A crowd that included a rather smug Eddie. Swallowing his pride, and feeling a red flush of shame spread to his ears, Cal stepped forward.

“I'm sorry, we don't have the money. If you could just give me a bit longer…”

“Extending the time-frame is not an option. If you don't have the money, then we will take something else as collateral until you do have the money.”

“What might that be?” Cal’s mind flipped through the possible things that could be offered as collateral in lieu of money and came up incredibly short. The movement had nothing, and he had never been one for personal items and definitely nothing of value. A single word from the Zealot had Cal’s immediate attention.

“You.”

There was an outburst of muttering from the assembled crowds and Cal was fairly certain that he heard a loud burst of outrage from Sarah, but it was hard to tell over the roaring in his ears. Him, they wanted him. That hadn't been what he expected when they said collateral. He focused enough to hear the man say that, upon repayment of the loan, Cal would be released but, until that point, he would remain with the Zealots. There was more shouting from Sarah and a part of Cal wondered why she was bothering. After all, she hadn't shown that much love or friendship towards him recently. Mostly, he was running things through in his head.

Was him being taken as collateral really the worst thing? What did he truly have to keep him here? Mary? Perhaps. Then again, he wasn't sure if she was with him because she wanted him or if there was a chance that he was the father of her baby. Sarah? She vacillated between seeming to love him and hate him, between treating him as a lover or a child. Not only that, but he felt as though she was hiding something from him about his mom. And then there was the movement. Did they really need him or was he just tolerated? It had been made perfectly clear that he was no longer Steve’s chosen one, that he had been usurped by Eddie. What was the point in staying somewhere where he was so clearly not wanted? Surely it made more sense for him to do something useful for Meyerism. Something that might improve people's opinion of him. And with that, he'd made his decision.

“I'll come with you.” Cal was proud when his voice didn't waver as he pronounced his decision.

“What? Cal, no! You can't!”

Cal turned to Sarah. “I think you'll find I can. Look, what choice do we have? We don't have the money and they won't give us an extension. You told me to get us out of this mess and that's what I'm doing.”

“But…”

“No buts. You’ll need to try and raise the money to get me back.” Here, Cal couldn't help the little bit of bitterness that crept into his voice. “I'm sure the movement will be just fine with Eddie in charge.”

Not wanting to say anymore, Cal turned to the Zealot representative. “Am I allowed to pack a bag?”

“Kaecilius will provide everything you need or desire but, by all means, if you have personal items…”

Cal thought about it momentarily before coming to the conclusion that there wasn’t actually anything that he was overly concerned with taking with him. “No, I don’t. I’m ready to go whenever you are.”

Despite the cries echoing behind him from Sarah and Mary, Cal walked away without looking back as the Zealot stepped back and gestured in the direction of the awaiting car. His decision had been made, there was no reason to look back now. As he got in the car and it drove away, Cal resolutely kept his gaze focused out of the front windscreen, never looking back.


	2. Chapter 2

As they drove out of the compound, Cal wasn’t really sure what he was doing and what was in store for him, but one thing he did know was that, considering he’d been in the movement for most of his life, he should have been more cut up about leaving than he was. Instead, he found himself to be rather unsentimental about the whole thing. Then again, what did he truly have to be sentimental about? He’d never been one to hoard personal possessions and, in truth, he was starting to wonder how many of his childhood memories he’d any sort of truth to them. He had been starting to remember things, as though he was seeing things through a haze, and it was making him start to doubt things, wonder what of his life at the compound - with Steve - he had repressed. Between that and the clusterfucks that were his relationships or interactions with Mary and Sarah, was there any wonder that he wasn’t reluctant to leave?

The zealot driving them to their destination - wherever that may be - seemed uninterested in conversation so Cal didn’t bother trying, occupying himself by staring out of the window instead. He wasn’t really sure where he was expecting to go, but he was a little surprised to see that they weren’t just heading down state, but they were heading towards New York.

Then again, he wasn’t really sure why he was surprised. The Zealots would have to have a headquarters located somewhere, why should that not be New York? Of course, the Masters of Mystic Arts had property there, but it wasn’t as if rival organisations or religious groups hadn't co-existed next to each other for years and if they could do it, why not rival cults? Besides, it wasn’t as if anyone knew the reason that the Zealots had broken away from the MMA; it all could have been perfectly amicable.

As they hit the city limits, Cal wondered if they would drive past the building that had led to him being in this position and hoped that they wouldn’t. Whilst he had no regrets about his decision, he wasn’t exactly ready to see his failure writ large in front of him in the form of real estate. He couldn’t help but spare a thought as to what would happen to the centre in the city now that Eddie was undoubtedly in charge of the Movement. Would he keep going with Cal’s plans? Let Hawk become more involved with the Movement or would he do something completely different?

Cal was so absorbed with his thoughts that he was completely oblivious to the fact that they had stopped until his prior to now silent escort told him.

“We’re here. Master Kaecilius is waiting for you inside.”

Master? They called the guy master? That was one nugget of information that Cal had not heard of and he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about it. It was … more than a little weird. The sound of his escort - or was he a guard - clearing his throat got Cal moving and he scrambled from the car onto the street, looking around him in awe. They were apparently in Hell’s Kitchen, far from Flatbush in Brooklyn where he had bought the property for the Movement and Greenwich Village, where the Sanctum of the MMA was housed. All around were huge brownstone houses and Cal couldn't help but wonder why they were so desperate to use him as collateral to get their money returned when they were based in a building and an area such as this; they were clearly not struggling without it so it didn’t make sense why they were in a desperate rush to get it back.

That thought was reinforced as he was ushered up the stairs and into the brownstone that he had been standing in front of. Coming from the compound and a lifetime of Meyerism which didn't put much stock in material items, this place was a revelation. There were things everywhere, many of them undoubtedly priceless, just by the look of them. Tapestries and furnishings that looked to be oriental in origin and tomes so old they looked as though they would disintegrate at a mere touch. Cal felt like a kid in a candy store, wanting to explore, to reach out and touch everything.

And then he became aware that he was being observed.

All around him were men and women dressed in the same dark grey tunic and baggy pants as his escort although, in contrast to the man who had brought him here, a large proportion of them had a strange marking on their forehead that looked like a brand or a tattoo of some sort. They definitely looked like they were in a cult, all dressed the same from their hair tied back in a ponytail to their identical boots. It was all more than a little intimidating and what made it even more so was the fact that they were all as silent as the grave. They didn't say anything, merely stood and appraised him. Cal was really starting to regret borrowing the money now. If only someone would say something, then it wouldn't be quite so unbearable.

And then a voice came from out of nowhere. A rather heavily accented voice that had to belong to the man himself, Kaecilius. Or was that Master Kaecilius?

“Mr Roberts. Or may I call you Cal?”

Cal craned his neck and looked around him but didn't see anyone. And then the Zealots surrounding him parted and he saw the man that, to all intents and purposes, owned Cal for the moment.

Kaecilius.

Cal wasn't sure what he had been expecting but he was pretty certain that it hadn't been this. Was this what European royalty looked like? It wasn't exactly something that Cal had taken any notice of over the years. He assumed not but, then again, he assumed that most heirs to the throne didn't run off and join a cult in the Far East. In terms of appearance and dress, there was very little to set Kaecilius apart from his followers. He wore his hair in the same low ponytail and also wore the dark grey pants and tunic, albeit with another layer over the top which resembled a mustard coloured surcoat.

One thing did set him apart from his followers though, and that was the man's sheer presence. This was a man who could walk into a room and command the attention of every single person in it in a heartbeat. A man with unquestionable charisma. The kind of man that Cal wanted to be. Those qualities aside, he was undeniably striking with the type of face that demanded a second look. Cal found himself utterly intrigued. Glancing up, his eyes locked with eyes that seemed multi-faceted, shifting colour as the man moved. One minute they were amber, then a warm brown, then maroon and almost ruby. It was only when Kaecilius smirked that Cal realised he hadn't replied.

“Yes, you can call me Cal.”

“And I am Kaecilius, welcome to our abode.” The words were accompanied by a little courtly bow that Cal found somewhat charming.

“I wasn't exactly given much choice in coming here…”

“In which case, we shall have to work twice as hard to ensure that your stay with us is pleasant. Please, come with me and I will show you to your room.”

Cal followed, feeling very much as though he was walking into the lion's den and knowing that there was nothing he could do about it. Besides, whatever lay in store for him, it couldn't be too bad. Could it? 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, massive thanks to the amazing Hannibalsimago for all their help <3

It was strange, finding himself in a new world and trying to find a place within it.

Cal found himself feeling incredibly out of place and awkward in a way that he hadn't for years. What made things worse was that nothing seemed to be expected of him; he wasn't required to do chores or anything else. He was free to lead a life of leisure in his role as collateral. There were no restrictions on him either. When he had left the compound, they had allowed Cal to keep his phone - one of the few things that he had bothered to bring with him - and he had had several messages from Sarah and Mary. The former had been assuring him that she was working on getting the money and the latter saying that she missed him. Neither had garnered a response.

Why would he bother? Why should he bother? They were only doing so out of a sense of obligation and, at least where Sarah was concerned, the ability to say that she’d been reaching out to him if someone asked. She was doing it to make herself feel better, not because she actually cared about Cal. What Cal did find interesting was that, other than acceptance, no other feelings were aroused. He didn’t feel sad, or angry, or hurt. Indeed, it was quite the revelation when he found that he didn’t miss anyone back at the compound.

It was more than a little disconcerting. Meyerism and the compound had been a massive part of his life - his whole life - for such a long time that it was hard to reconcile that with the fact that he wasn't mourning its loss. That wasn’t to say that he’d totally abandoned the principles, but he was being less … stringent than he had been. He was still meditating daily and striving for personal enlightenment but, well, it was a bit tricky given his current location and the people around him. Not to mention the flashbacks and returning memories that were bombarding him from the abuse he had suffered at Steve's hands.

Not ready to deal with that yet, Cal was trying to distract himself by attempting to understand his captors, for want of a better word. So far, it wasn't going too well. Cal still had to work out the dynamics of the Zealots. They didn't seem to have anything in place like the rungs that Meyerism had. Instead, it seemed as though there was just Kaecilius in charge and all the others were nothing more than his minions. They were like shadows in their dark grey clothing, slipping around the building, silent as the grave. He had no idea what they did day to day because he could never pin them down long enough to speak to them.

And then there was Kaecilius himself.

Cal’s new keeper, to all intents and purposes. The man was as much of an enigma almost a week after Cal’s arrival as he had been before. Cal had seen him around intermittently but, other than brief conversations to ensure that Cal was being well looked after, they hadn’t had any interactions. Cal was intrigued, completely and utterly. He wanted to know more about Kaecilius, more about the man who was keeping him as a hostage, albeit an almost pampered one. Cal didn’t know enough about his gaolers to know how closely they were monitoring him and so he didn’t feel comfortable doing an Internet search.

Instead, he had attempted to question the Zealots - when he could actually find one for more than a few seconds, that is. With nothing else to do, Cal had taken to spending all of his time in the absolutely incredible library that took up most of the ground floor of the brownstone. He was reading as much as he could in an attempt to try to understand the people that he was with. The problem lay in the almost complete dearth of information. It didn’t matter how many books he read, he was still no closer to understanding anything about either the Zealots or Kaecilius.

He was in the library, where he spent most of his time reading, when an instantaneously recognisable voice broke the silence.

“I hear you’ve been asking about me…”

Cal jumped at the voice that appeared out of the silence, just as it's owner materialised out of the shelves. Cal could have sworn that there had been nobody there a minute ago but maybe he just hadn't been looking closely enough. After all, it wasn't as though Kaecilius could appear out of thin air like magic. He blushed all the way to the tips of his ears as he realised that he was staring at Kaecilius rather than answering him.

“Oh, umm, well, yes.” He wanted to cringe at the lameness of his response. “I was curious and there's not exactly a lot of information out there about you or your people.”

“What do you want to know?” Kaecilius spread his hands, a smile playing on his lips that seemed to say ‘do your worst’.

Cal was more than a little surprised. He hadn’t expected Kaecilius to be this open. Cal certainly wouldn’t have been if their roles were reversed. “You’ll answer my questions?”

“If I can. I will not tell you anything that I do not wish to reveal just yet.”

Cal nodded and decided to start easy. “Are you really a Danish prince?”

“I was … a lifetime ago. I suppose, if you want to be technical about it, I am still next in line for succession given the lack of other suitable members of the blood. Then again, I believe that my father will outlive me through sheer determination to not see me on the throne.”

“Why did you leave Denmark? If … if you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

“I thought everybody knew the answer to that. I certainly have not tried to hide it and it made all of the newspapers at the time; ‘Heir to the Danish throne absconds to join Eastern cult’. Many years ago, I was married. Her family was Danish aristocracy and we had known each other since childhood. It was not an arranged marriage though; we fell in love in our teens and married in our early twenties. We had not been married long when we were blessed with a son. However, our happiness was to only last four years before he died suddenly. We were still mourning his loss when my Adria took ill suddenly as we walked by the canal in Nyhavn. She was immediately rushed to hospital and received the very best care, but I knew, even before the doctors came to speak to me that she had gone where I could not follow. That both my loves had reunited without me.”

“I’m sorry.” Instinctively, Cal reached out, just as he would were he listening to someone within his own community before he aborted the gesture halfway through, not knowing how it would be taken. The half-smile that Kaecilius shot him before he continued talking set Cal at ease somewhat.

“It was the loss of Adria, on top of the loss of our son that broke my heart and tipped me over the edge. I desperately needed to understand why they had been taken from me. It was this feeling that led me to the Masters of Mystic Arts. The Ancient One who leads them promised to help me, told me that they would be able to find answers as to why they were taken from me. I trained with them for years, but they failed to live up to their promise. I was not able to find meaning in the deaths of my loved ones and neither was I able to bring them back. I became disillusioned and, when the Ancient One could not give me satisfactory answers to my questions, I broke away from the Masters and formed the Zealots. With them I move ever closer to enlightenment.”

As Cal watched, somewhat amazed that Kaecilius had shared so much with him, he couldn’t help but be surprised by the man’s next words.

“Maybe you would like to join us for our next ritual?” 

(~*~)

It was strange. Cal had taken part in many ceremonies over the years, both as a participant and as a leader, some of them using marijuana or ayahuasca to enhance proceedings but none of them had ever affected him like this. If it weren't for the fact that he knew he hadn't taken anything, he would have thought that he had indulged in too much sacred herb or alcohol. Everything was a little hazy, as though he was seeing it through a veil. More importantly, there was a feeling of power in the air.

He supposed power was the best way to describe it but, in truth, it was more ephemeral than that. Tangible but not. Some people might use the word magic. Cal would almost be tempted to use that word himself if he didn’t know that magic didn’t exist. Yet, there was no other real, believable explanation for what he was seeing.

The invitation to watch one of the Zealots rituals had come two days after their talk in the library and Cal had accepted eagerly, wanting to see what he had read about. Wanting to understand. Whatever he had been expecting though, it hadn't been this. The air was heavy and scented, as though there was incense burning - which would also explain the haze in the air. For once, all of the Zealots were present. Seeing them all gathered together, not skulking in the shadows was a little strange. There were fewer than Cal had imagined, certainly nowhere near the numbers of Meyerists.

Cal watched as they started to move their hands through the air, frowning as he saw shapes appear in what looked like flickering flames, but surely he had to be imagining that? He could hear them start chanting but he was distracted by Kaecilius’ hands. Cal had watched a fair bit of porn over the years - despite the Movement frowning on it to an extent - and he had to say that, watching Kaecilius’ hands was almost better than watching porn. Those hands flitting through the air, twisting and twining into a variety of shapes did things to Cal. Things that he had never expected.

And then the tension in the air snapped tight and sparks literally flew once more as Cal met Kaecilius’ gaze, his mouth dropping open silently.

The brand in the centre of Kaecilius’ forehead had always been visible to Cal but now it wasn’t the only thing that he could see. Rather than the tan, skin with noticeable crow’s feet that had been visible when they sat opposite each other in the library, Kaecilius’ appearance was more than a little changed. Instead, those eyes that seemed to change colour with the light, were now surrounded by dark purple skin that was outlined in silver that seemed almost cracked. All in all, it gave Kaecilius an even more intense appearance than before.

He knew that this should raise alarm bells, make him nervous, make him fear Kaecilius and the Zealots. Yet, strangely enough, it didn’t do any of those things. Instead, he felt remarkably safe. More than that, he felt a heat ignite in the pit of his belly. One that he had never felt for anybody before, not for Sarah, not for Mary. The first pangs of desire.

It was more than a little disconcerting and it was all Cal could do to hide his internal panic.


	4. Chapter 4

For the first few days after the ritual, Cal went to ground. The influx of feelings that he had experienced had terrified him and, rather than face Kaecilius - and reality - he opted for hiding away from the world. Not that secluding himself in the room that he had been given stopped his brain from working overtime. It wasn’t just the swiftness or the intensity of his attraction to Kaecilius that scared him but the act of being attracted to a man.

It wasn’t something that he had ever experienced before and, coupled with the return of his repressed memories concerning Steve, Cal had the overwhelming urge to run. Or get blinding drunk in an attempt to forget, even if just temporarily. He hadn’t touched alcohol in months, but he’d relapsed before and the world hadn’t ended.

Why was this happening now when it had never happened before? Why Kaecilius? Especially after the ritual that he had witnessed. He should be running for the hills, not having a sexual identity crisis. Was there something wrong with him? Was this because of what Steve had done to him? Had Steve molesting him turned him gay? But then, if it had been that, why was it happening now and why not years ago when he’d been in his twenties? And what about his relationships with Mary and Sarah? He had thought he loved them, but had he been mistaken?

Of course, there was also the other elephant in the room. The one that wasn’t Cal’s great big sexual identity crisis and that was what he had seen during the ritual. There was no reasonable, logical explanation for what he had seen. The shapes they had drawn in flickering flames hovering in the air, the way the skin around their eyes had cracked and changed pigmentation, how the brands or tattoos on their foreheads had seemed to glow. It didn't make sense. There was one word that kept bouncing around his head, that was the only logical answer but, even so, Cal wouldn't let himself verbalise it because it was ridiculous. It couldn't be magic that he had seen because magic doesn't exist, does it?

His respite lasted no longer than two days before it was interrupted.

He had been in the en-suite bathroom, immersing himself underwater in the tub again and again, hoping to give himself just the shortest break from his thoughts. All he had succeeded in doing was cause his breath to become increasingly laboured. Finally admitting defeat, he got out and wrapped a towel around his waist and wandered into the bedroom, scrubbing at his hair with another smaller towel, only to drop it in shock when he saw Kaecilius sat in the chair by the window.

“How did you get in?” Cal crossed and checked the door handle, but it remained locked, just as he left it.

“I am Master of this place, I have my ways and means.”

“Why are you here?” Cal crossed to the bed, sitting down on it, shoulders slumping.

“You have been in this room for two days. Am I not permitted to be concerned about a guest in my home?”

Cal shot to his feet and started to pace back and forth. “But that’s what I don’t understand! I understand you keeping me here as collateral - that makes sense - but nothing else does. Why did you tell me all of that information about yourself? Why did you let me watch the ritual? What did I watch? None of it makes sense!”

“I have been watching you for a long time, Cal Roberts. Your failure to pay back the loan played in my favour in more ways than one. I shared the information with you so that you would get to know me, that maybe you would offer me the same opportunity. Because I feel drawn to you in a way that I haven’t been drawn to anyone since my Adria. I let you watch the ritual to open your eye to an alternative to your Meyerism. As for what you watched, all shall be revealed in good time.”

“But that still doesn’t explain what all of this is about. I’m not that interesting or worth going to this much trouble for.”

“I beg to differ. Your Movement, your Ladder, was unable to provide you with what you search for, what you crave, what you need. Perhaps I am able to provide that for you.”

“What do you think I crave and need?” Cal was feeling dizzy again at Kaecilius’ proximity and he closed his eyes briefly in an attempt to orientate himself.

“Enlightenment. A purpose. A sense of self-worth. Love.”

Cal chuckled bitterly at the last answer Kaecilius gave, opening his eyes although he didn't make eye contact. “The only people that I’ve ever been with … they told me that I wasn’t capable of being in love. That, as a result of that, I wasn’t capable of being loved.”

The admission wasn’t easy for Cal to make but he felt better once he’d made it. It was something that had played long on his mind and, at first, he had found it hard to accept but he had eventually come to believe it as gospel. Him being incapable of love made so much sense. As did him being incapable of being loved. It would certainly explain why his parents had left him with Steve, why Sarah had chosen Eddie over him, why Mary had been torn between himself and Sean. Why he always ended up being discarded.

As a result of both his preoccupation with his thoughts and also his refusal to look at Kaecilius, he startled like a wild creature at the feel of gentler fingers touching his jaw, all but caressing it. The barest amount of pressure had him turning Cal’s head towards him so that Cal was looking into eyes that were no less captivating without the deep purple surrounding them.

“Did you ever think that the problem was with the other people and not with you? You are a passionate man, Cal Roberts. I find it difficult to believe that a man as passionate of you is incapable of love. Perhaps the only thing that has been lacking is that you have yet to meet the right person.”

Whatever response Cal had been expecting from Kaecilius, that hadn’t been it. His shock was palpable but Kaecilius remained cool and collected, an expression on his face that Cal couldn’t decipher.

“Something to think about. In the meantime, I would very much like it if you would break your fast with me this evening…”

“Oh! Well, umm, yes. I can do that, that would be nice.”

“Until this evening then.” There was a repeat of the little courtly bow that Cal found as charming as he had upon his arrival and then Kaecilius was gone as quickly as he had appeared, leaving Cal questioning precisely what had just happened.


	5. Chapter 5

That dinner had been the first of many.

Admittedly, Cal had wavered over whether to attend the dinner or not. Mostly due to fear. Fear that, if he went that he might discover more about the Zealots and what he had witnessed. Fear that, the more time he spent with Kaecilius, the greater chance of his feelings developing further was. In the end, though his fear was great, his curiosity was greater still. Curious about the man who, in no more than a handful of meetings, seemed to know Cal better than those who had known him his whole life. He had spent so much time making his decision, going back and forth that, when he finally decided to go, he only had twenty minutes to shower and change.

Given that he'd been told that Kaecilius would provide everything that he needed or wanted, upon his arrival, Cal had half expected that he would be given the same generic grey clothes that everyone wore and had been pleasantly surprised when the wardrobe in his room had contained his normal choice of clothing. It at least gave him some sense of vague normality while he was in a strange place.

Cal wasn't entirely sure what he was expecting from dinner but it certainly wasn't a private dinner, the table beautifully laid for two and Kaecilius acting with perfectly courtly manners. More than that, Cal simply wasn't prepared to be the sole focus of Kaecilius’ attention. As the public face of Meyerism, Cal was used to being subjected to scrutiny but, Kaecilius’ intense gaze up close was more than a little disconcerting, and Cal had to fight the urge to squirm like a recalcitrant child. And then, of course, he had to fight the urge not to squirm as his cock swelled in his trousers, hoping that Kaecilius didn’t notice what was happening.

Cal had been surprised - and more than a little touched - by how solicitous Kaecilius was being. Not just things like his dietary preferences but of Cal’s mental well-being. He was constantly checking that Cal was happy, that he wasn't uncomfortable. In fact, Cal was the complete opposite of uncomfortable.

It wasn’t limited to that first dinner together either. At the end of the meal, Kaecilius had invited him to a second dinner and that had been repeated at the end of the second meal. And then, one day, Kaecilius had appeared out of nowhere while Cal was in the library and simply sat there, observing. But, it wasn’t awkward. Cal could feel the intense gaze on him but it didn’t make him feel uncomfortable or self-conscious. Instead, it left a warmth in the pit of his belly. As each meeting passed, he found himself wanting to spend more and more time with Kaecilius, lingering more and more, drawing out the evenings until the early hours of the morning.

He still wasn’t convinced about what the Zealots practised. All of the talk of learning magic to protect Earth in order to safeguard it from multidimensional evils. Hell, Cal couldn’t quite wrap his head around there being multiple dimensions let alone that magic apparently existed. It was all so different from Meyerism which had its roots in a combination of Christian mysticism, traditional South American religions and various other fringe cults (although they tended to leave those bits out). Were Kaecilius anyone else, Cal would waste no time in labelling him an ignorant systemite, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to. Whilst Kaecilius didn’t share Cal’s views, it was unfair to say that he was unenlightened.

What Cal was sure about, was that his initial fears had come true; he was becoming more and more attracted to Kaecilius with every passing day. What was more, he was fairly certain that Kaecilius was also attracted to him. Gazes locked, hands brushed and lingered, eyes fixated on lips and undeniably flirtatious comments were exchanged, no matter how subtle.

About two weeks after the private dinners started, Cal lost his resolve. He didn't quite know how it had happened but, as Cal was leaving for the evening, they had become embroiled in a rather passionate debate. Cal had been gesticulating somewhat wildly as he spoke, all while simultaneously moving towards the door and he had tripped over something, only to find himself caught against Kaecilius’ broad chest. He had looked up a scant inch and found himself utterly mesmerised by Kaecilius' gaze, only vaguely aware of the hand coming up to stroke and then cup his cheek, guiding him in closer.

And then Kaecilius’ lips were on his and they were kissing.

As Cal closed his eyes and let himself get swept away in the heady sensation of Kaecilius’ lips against his and their bodies touching from shoulders to knees, he couldn't help but wonder if Kaecilius had been right. Maybe he wasn't incapable of love, maybe he had simply never found the person worthy of it.

Because this? Well, it felt dangerously like being in love.

His last thought as he went to bed that night was that all of this was almost too good to be true.


	6. Chapter 6

His thoughts had been almost prophetic.

In the end, it proved all too easy to bring Cal’s strangely contented little world tumbling down around his ears.

It had started out as such a good day. Cal had moved into Kaecilius’ bedroom some weeks previously, but it was still a novelty waking up to strong arms wrapped around him and nestled up against that broad chest. And not just that, but well-rested. There had been no nightmares since he had started sleeping with Kaecilius. Cal didn’t know whether to attribute that to the fact that he was so exhausted from good sex that he slept through or if it was because he felt safe with Kaecilius. The cynic in Cal said the former but, deep in his heart, Cal knew the truth. He felt safe with Kaecilius in a way that he had never really felt before. The sex certainly didn’t hurt thought. Except it wasn’t just sex.

It was so much more than that.

There was a connection between Cal and Kaecilius that had been missing with previous partners. An equality. With everybody else he interacted with, Cal didn't feel able to show vulnerability, whether during sex or not. He always felt as though he had to be the strong one. As a result, there was always something lacking in intimacy, always some part of Cal that was closed off. Not so with Kaecilius. It was almost as though there was something about him that encouraged Cal to be vulnerable. Maybe it was the fact that Kaecilius himself showed vulnerability when they were together. Whatever it was, the sex between them was not just about a physical connection but an emotional one as well, which made it the most intense sex that Cal had experienced and had him eager to return to their shared bedroom each evening and reluctant to leave each morning.

Unlike many at the Meyerist compound, none of the Zealots had day jobs (if they did, then Cal had never seen any evidence) and the question of how they funded their lifestyle was one that continued to go unanswered, much to Cal’s bemusement. He still felt as though he were floundering with nothing to do. Cal knew that his situation was unique but he wasn’t good at being idle. Ever since he was able to, he had worked for the movement but here there was nothing to do but read or spend time with Kaecilius. Even if Cal chose to read, then the odds were that Kaecilius would end up demanding his attention anyway.

After whiling away several hours in bed, unwilling to drag himself from Kaecilius’ arms when he didn’t have to, Cal had finally ended up in the library as he so often did. An exploration of the far corner had revealed several tomes where the layer of dust spoke volumes as to how often they were read - or even found. Picking the one that looked the most interesting, Cal quickly lost himself in the history of Agamotto and thus the history of the Zealots.

It was interesting, there was no denying that. He still wasn’t sure if he believed it; he could get so far and then got lost in all the talk of Dormammu and dark dimensions. He was still enmeshed within Meyerism, even knowing that it had its flaws. Maybe that would change at some point but, for now, it was enough to know that Kaecilius’ faith and convictions ran as deep as Cal’s, even if they did differ. It was a stretch to call his previous involvement with other people relationships but the depth of his feelings compared to theirs had always been a little contentious.

Cal didn’t know how long he had been reading for when his peace and quiet was shattered by a loud banging on the front door. There was a quiet murmuring and then a raised voice calling out his name. A very familiar raised voice. Cal’s heart sank. Sarah. She had obviously done what she had been instructed to, what _he_ had instructed her to do, which was raise the money that Cal had been taken as collateral against all those months ago. He had turned his phone off months ago, not seeing the point to it so who knew what Sarah was thinking. Hell, she had probably entertained the thought that he was dead when he failed to respond. Eddie certainly would have done and gleefully. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more surprised he was that Sarah had taken this long to turn up once he'd stopped responding.

Maybe that said it all.

Once upon a time, it would have been immediate. If Cal hadn't responded within 24 hours, then Sarah would have been there, beating the door down and demanding to know where he was. Clearly, the times they are a'changing.

Cal didn’t want to return to that. He wanted to stay here, where he was happy, where he was with Kaecilius. He could find a purpose here, build a life for himself somehow. He wasn't sure what but there had to be something. He winced as Sarah’s voice rose in volume yet again, drifting easily through the closed door and thick walls, demanding that they let her see Cal, wanting to know why they were hiding him from her.

“She is quite adamant that we have done something to you. I do not know if i should be offended or admire her sense of conviction.”

Cal’s heart rate and breathing spiked momentarily before returning to normal. He had grown accustomed to Kaecilius appearing seemingly out of nowhere from his portals - although his brain still couldn't wrap itself around how it was possible - but it still startled him every time.

“Yeah, Sarah's always been dogmatic when she gets an idea in her head.”

“Then come, let us allay her fears before she escalates the situation.”

Cal set his book aside and allowed himself to be ushered out of the room, Kaecilius’ hand hovering at the small of his back, not quite touching but close enough that Cal could feel the heat of it. It was reassuring at a time when Cal felt so unsettled. It certainly helped when they emerged into the lobby and it transpired that Sarah's dramatics had drawn quite the crowd. As always, Kaecilius’ mere presence drew the attention of the Zealots, Sarah turning to look automatically, copying those around her.

“Cal!”

Well, she certainly seemed happy to see him. Not even seconds after her exclamation, her arms wrapped tightly around Cal and he was lost in the familiar feel of her warmth encompassing him, the scent of her perfume and shampoo in his nostrils. Out of habit, Cal’s arms wrapped around her but he was very conscious of Kaecilius standing mere feet away. And then Sarah was whispering in his ear.

“Are you okay? Have they treated you well? I was so worried when you stopped responding.”

Cal swallowed a little heavily. “Yes, they’ve treated me well.”

“Good.” Sarah pulled back, turning her attention to Kaecilius and drawing something from her purse. Cal realised what it was as she handed it over to Kaecilius; a cheque. Sarah had, somehow, managed to scrape together the money that Cal had borrowed. “I believe this is the correct amount. Plus some extra to account for interest, of course.”

Kaecilius didn't say much as he accepted the flimsy slip of paper, casting a quick glance over it before handing it over to his second, Lucian. “Yes, that all looks in order.”

“Good. So, if that is correct, I trust that you will honour the agreement. You took Cal as collateral until we had the money to pay you back. I’ve just given you the money, so you need to give Cal back to us.”

“Those were the terms of our agreement. As you have fulfilled your end of the bargain, I shall honour mine. Mr Roberts is free to leave with you.”

“Great. Cal, let's go. Cal?” The confusion was clearly audible in Sarah’s voice, not understanding why Cal wasn’t rushing to leave.

To be perfectly honest, Cal was incapable of doing anything. He was frozen to the spot, feeling as though he were navigating through a thick fog. The way that Kaecilius was talking, all terms of agreement and bargains … it made him feel sick to his stomach. And calling him Mr Roberts? It wasn't even hours ago that the man had been whispering Cal’s name against his skin in reverential tones. Was Kaecilius truly not going to say anything else? Was he just going to accept the money and then let Cal go? After everything that they had shared, everything Cal had seen.

“Cal?” Sarah prompted gently but, if Cal really concentrated, he could hear the slight edge that let him know he'd get the third degree on their way home.

“Yeah, sorry. I'll just … umm, go and pack.” There was only so long that Cal could linger without Sarah starting to question him and Kaecilius was saying nothing, simply staring at Cal with an impassive expression on his face. What else could Cal do but turn on his heel and retreat?

Cal could feel his ears burning with humiliation as he made his way up the stairs to pack his things. As he entered their - Kaecilius’ room - he felt tears prick at his eyes but he refused to compound his shame by letting them fall. It was bad enough that all of the Zealots had witnessed what had happened but he wasn't going to let them see him cry.

That didn't mean that it was easy. Once inside the room, the urge to just let the tears fall was overwhelming. Here, in this space, with their clothes and personal items blended together, it spoke of their life together, of a relationship. How real was it though? The way that Kaecilius had reacted to Sarah's demand that Cal return with her in return for the money that Cal had borrowed, by which Cal meant Kaecilius’ total lack of reaction other than acknowledging that that had been their agreement, spoke volumes.

Had Cal been living in a fantasy world? Had he been imagining every scrap of affection that Kaecilius had bestowed upon him? Kaecilius’ words that maybe Cal simply hadn't found the right person to love as opposed to him being incapable of love … had they simply been pretty words to get him into bed? Cal prided himself on his ability to read people  … how had he managed to get it so wrong? Yes, Kaecilius was the leader of a mysterious cult but even so. Had everybody been laughing at him this whole time?

Despite the temptation to analyse everything, Cal resisted. There would be plenty of time to do that once he had returned to the compound. For now, he had to focus on getting out of this brownstone with his dignity intact, or what remained of it. When he had arrived in Hell’s Kitchen, Cal had had nothing with him but his phone and the clothes on his back. That wasn’t the case now. As the Zealot who had come to the compound initially had stated, Kaecilius had provided everything that Cal needed or wanted. Some necessities for everyday life and others merely fripperies. A small petty part of him considered leaving everything that Kaecilius had gifted him, but then Cal decided that, as sentimental as it was, he wanted something material to remember these weeks by and started throwing things into a rucksack.

In less than ten minutes, he was back downstairs with the rucksack slung over his shoulder. The foyer was still full of Zealots and it was only the fact that there was an audience that stayed Cal’s tongue. If it had been merely himself and Kaecilius, then Cal would have abandoned his pride and begged for an explanation, begged for Kaecilius to let him stay. As it was, he merely squared his shoulders and walked out of the door after Sarah, with nothing more than a nod of acknowledgement.

For her part, Sarah was quiet as they got in the car and kept her tongue until they were halfway through New York.

“What was all that about back there? Anyone would think that you wanted to stay there. It's almost as though you think you're in love with one of them, as though you were waiting for them to speak up, to beg you not to leave.” Sarah's voice was full of mirth, which faded as Cal didn't respond with violent denial as she had expected.

“Seriously, Cal? That's it? You fancy yourself in love with one of them? Although, this is you, so it's more likely lust.”

“Is it so impossible to believe?”

Sarah let out a noise of incredulity, taking her eyes off the road to stare at Cal. “That you're in love? Yes, absolutely. Come on, it's probably Stockholm syndrome. People get that all the time, don't they?”

“If they've been held prisoner, yes. Stockholm syndrome is where hostages develop a psychological alliance with their captor as a means of survival. That isn't actually what happened to me, you know. I wasn’t a hostage and Kaecilius was hardly an aggressive captor.”

“Kaecilius, is it? Okay. So, if it's not Stockholm syndrome and you're actually in love with one of those Zealots, how would it work? You're a Meyerist, they're a cult with a bad reputation. Your place is with us.”

“You mean I still have a place? That Eddie lasted longer than five minutes after I left the compound before he took charge?”

Sarah didn't respond to Cal’s jibe, which just said it all. Instead, she turned the attention back to him. “So, which one is it? Which one do you claim to love? The blonde? The brunette? You’ve gone for both in the past. No, I know you. The way you’ve spoken about him, it’s the leader isn’t it? It’s Kaecilius.”

“And if it is?”

“What? Did he tell you that he loved you?”

Cal didn't respond. He didn’t have the energy.  Instead, he curled up as much as he could in the passenger seat, not caring if he appeared vulnerable and childlike in front of Sarah, and stared out of the window, muttering under his breath.

“He didn't have to say it. I thought he did, that was enough.”


	7. Chapter 7

_‘Death of a King; Danish Royal Family in Turmoil.’_

The headlines stared out at Cal from the front page of the New York Times. He didn’t need to check to know that something similar would be on the front page of every other newspaper in the world and all of the online news sites as well. This was huge. The Danish king - Kaecilius’ father - was dead. Cal thought back to that first real conversation that he had had with Kaecilius. Unless things had changed drastically since then, since Cal’s return to the compound, then Kaecilius was likely to be the next king of Denmark.

That realisation brought a whole slew of emotions bubbling to the surface for Cal. It had been just over a month since he had returned to the compound, to the arms of his supposed Meyerist family and Cal still felt unsettled. Something had changed. _He_ had changed. It wasn’t the same feeling that he had had before the Zealots had taken him as collateral, that sense of not knowing who or what he was, the sense that he didn’t truly belong. No, now it was the feeling that he knew precisely where he belonged and it wasn’t with the Meyerists.

It was with Kaecilius.

Meyerism had changed in the months that Cal had been away, with Eddie taking the movement in a completely different direction. Then again, Cal had changed as well. There wasn’t a place here for him anymore, but that no longer brought the same sense of loss and confusion that it would have done previously. It simply confirmed that he was making the right decision. He had come back when Sarah had brought the money but he knew now that he should have gone with his gut and stayed with the Zealots.

Every single part of him wished that he had done more. That he hadn’t trailed after Sarah like a docile lamb. That he had set aside his pride and begged Kaecilius to let him stay. That he had challenged Kaecilius and forced him to tell Cal how he truly felt. That he had jumped out of the car in New York and returned to the brownstone.

He was suffering for that now. The feeling of safety that had wrapped around him just as surely as Kaecilius’ arms had deserted him. He hadn't had a single decent nights sleep, constantly plagued with nightmares. There were no more conversations that turned into theological debates that became ever increasingly passionate but never became patronising and, on more than one occasion, had ended up in bed. He missed the sex as well - of course he did, he was a virile man with a high sex drive - but it was everything else that he missed more.

Scanning quickly through the rest of the article, he saw that, while there were mentions of Kaecilius’ history and the fact that he was still heir to the throne despite everything, nothing was mentioned as to his location. Cal didn’t hesitate. As soon as he finished the article, he packed his things, all of them gifted to him by Kaecilius and able to fit into one suitcase, before throwing them into his car, intending to drive straight for the now familiar brownstone in Hell’s Kitchen.

Of course, it would have been too much to hope for to get away without having to see Sarah or Mary. The two of them cornered him by his car, not allowing him to get in and drive away. Even better, he could see Eddie and Sean hovering in the background, the latter with the baby in his arms.

Nice to see how little they trusted him. Even now. Cal had no doubt that Sarah had informed them of the nature of his relationship with Kaecilius but, even knowing that, it didn’t alter their distrust.

“Cal! I - we - came as soon as we saw the news. What are you doing? Where are you going?”

“Where do you think I’m going, Sarah?”

“You’re going to New York? To him? What makes you think that he’ll still be there? And that he’ll be interested in you if he is? He’s going to be a King in all likelihood, Cal. They’re going to expect him to marry again. And not a man who has problems with alcohol and violence. Aristocracy. Someone female. Someone who can give him an heir.”

“He loves me. I love him.” Even as he said it, Cal hated the doubt, the insecurity that shot through him. And then Mary joined in, just to twist the knife a little deeper. “That’s what he said, Cal, but how do you know it was the truth? He’s an expert wordsmith, how do you know that he wasn’t just saying that to get you into his bed? And we all know that you’re not capable of love.”

“No. you think I’m not capable of love. There’s a difference. You know nothing about me, not really.” Cal squared his shoulders and raised his chin. “You clearly don’t think a lot of me but that’s fine. I’m going back to Kaecilius. Hopefully it will all work out but, even if it doesn’t, don’t worry; I won’t darken your doorstep again.”

Not bothering to say goodbye, Cal stepped around the two women and got into the car, driving through the compound and out towards New York without even the briefest of backwards glances. There were no regrets as he drove away, only a feeling of rightness as he left the place that he had lived for most of his life but that, he had come to realise, had never truly been his home. His home was a person and that was where Cal was headed. 

~*~

“What do you mean he isn’t here?” Cal couldn’t help but shout at the Zealot who had had the misfortune to open the door to him. “Where is he?”

“On his way to Copenhagen. Officials from the Danish government arrived last night.”

Cal ran a hand over his head and swore. He hadn’t thought of that; he had hoped to catch Kaecilius before he left the country. Of course the representatives from the Danish Royal family - and maybe even the government - would have arrived last night. They would have wanted to beat the news reports and start putting plans in place. His mind racing, Cal totally missed the fact that he was being spoken to until a hand touched his arm. Clearly living with Kaecilius had given this particular Zealot a backbone.

“Lucian went with Master Kaecilius, as did some of the others. Master Kaecilius said that Lucian was his second and he would be acting as an assistant. He will be able to get you to see the Master. The Master will want to see you. He'll need you. All we have to do is get you to Copenhagen and that is easily done.”

There was clearly truth in the man's words and his confidence was far from unfounded. At least in their ability to get Cal to Denmark.

Cal was used to getting things done but, even so, this was impressive even by his standards. In seemingly no time at all, Cal found himself booked on a flight to Denmark with a first-class ticket and the assurance that someone would pick him up once he landed in Copenhagen. There was simply no question about the fact that he would be going to Denmark to join Kaecilius. Indeed, given the ease with which they had made their plans, it was almost as though they had been expecting him and, well, Cal couldn’t really cope with that thought right now. It was overwhelming. Not just the ease with which they were achieving their goals but the fact that they had dropped everything to help _him._ It was pretty common at the compound for people to help each other out, drop everything at a moment's notice if they were needed, and he had seen Sarah do it numerous times but nobody had done it for him.

Less than forty-five minutes after he had arrived in Hell’s Kitchen, Cal found himself being chauffeured off to JFK. Once at the airport, he was ushered straight through check-in to the departure lounges and then onto the plane itself with the assurance that someone would meet him when he landed at Kastrup. Seemingly before he had the chance to think, Cal found himself being offered champagne on a plane headed for Copenhagen and - he hoped - Kaecilius. 

~*~

The problem with a flight that lasted just over eight hours was that it gave Cal far too much time to think. Especially when he was doing his utmost to not drink the champagne - or indeed any of the drinks - on offer. The Zealots at the brownstone in New York had been so convinced that it was the right thing to do, that he needed to come to Copenhagen, but what if it wasn't.

_‘The Master will want to see you. He'll need you.’_

Those were the exact words that had been used. They were imprinted indelibly on Cal’s brain. The sheer conviction. Even so, Cal wasn’t convinced. What if they were wrong? What if Kaecilius didn’t want to see him? What if he didn’t need Cal? What if Cal was making this trip only to make a fool of himself? The further through the flight he got, the more Cal’s thoughts spiralled and the more of a temptation the alcohol on offer became. He was determined though. Cal hadn’t had a drink for months - not since well before he had met Kaecilius - and he wasn’t about to start now. Besides, he had the feeling that he was going to need all of his wits about him once he reached his destination.

(~*~)

As he had been promised, someone was waiting for him with his name on a card the minute that he walked through into arrivals at Kastrup. Given that said someone was quite clearly a Zealot - and dressed as such - they were being given more than a few strange looks by the other people waiting to meet their loved ones. Still, Cal allowed himself to be shepherded out to the waiting car and driven in the direction of what he presumed to be the city. As the fields gave way to a more urbanised setting and more bikes than Cal had expected to see, he finally decided to question his silent chauffeur. 

“Umm, so where exactly are we going?”

“Amalienborg. The royal residence in Copenhagen. Master Kaecilius is currently in meetings with members of the Council of State and several representatives from the government, but you will be able to wait until you can see him.”

Cal’s stomach turned and he had to resist the urge to gag. “I don’t want to be in the way or disturb anything.”

“You won’t be. Master will want to see you.”

The pronouncement, spoken with the same conviction as all of the others, didn't help Cal’s churning stomach in the slightest. Still he was a little surprised when they pulled up in a square with four large mansions situated around a statue of a horse. Was this it? Had they arrived? If this was the royal residence then there was more security around the compound. Seriously, the White House had huge railings and fencing and armed guards and, okay so this place had armed soldiers, but that was it. Any member of the public could just walk up to the gates - and did, even as Cal watched on in amazement!

What disconcerted Cal the most was the sheer number of people milling around. He knew that it was to be expected given the current state of affairs - the people would be mourning their deceased king and curious about Kaecilius, if they knew of his return - but that didn't make it any less terrifying for Cal. Speaking in front of hundreds of people about Meyerism, as he had done in the past, didn't faze him at all. Why would it? He was confident in both the subject matter and his own charisma and it had been justified. Here though? He was hyper-aware of every gaze on him, of the whispers speculating who he was and why he was being permitted entrance to Amalienborg, and Cal cringed, not wanting the attention. Here, in this place, in this situation, he wasn't confident.

What little confidence he had plummeted once he was ushered inside one of the four mansions and into a beautifully decorated room, empty but for a single throne-like chair at one end. That was when it truly sank in. Kaecilius was, in all likelihood, a king now. This was where he had grown up, where he had once lived. He may not have resided here for a long time but they weren't alien surroundings. They were to Cal; he'd never been anywhere like this before. What had he been thinking? He didn't belong somewhere like this. It had been hard enough to believe that Kaecilius wanted him when they were both normal, or as close to normal as they could be. Maybe Sarah and Mary were right. Maybe this had been a fool's errand. Perhaps it was time to disappear, to go far away from the compound, from Meyerism, from Kaecilius and create a new life for himself.

Feeling no little despair, Cal sank into the ornate seat, hands gripping the arm rests tightly and staring into mid-air as he considered his options. He could stay and wait to be told that either Kaecilius didn't want him or that the government had decided they couldn't continue their relationship and Kaecilius had agreed to their wishes. Either option was like a knife to the heart and the ornate edging of the chair bit into the palms of his hands as he clenched them convulsively. The big question was whether he waited to be told or if he left without seeing Kaecilius. Simply walked out the door and disappeared into the streets of Copenhagen.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he was oblivious to the fact that he was no longer alone. At least until he heard the familiar tones of Kaecilius and looked up to see him stood in the doorway, his gaze almost soft as he stared at Cal.

“I thought Lucian was lying to me when he said that you were waiting for me here.”

Cal closed his eyes and dropped his head, taking in a deep breath as he opened them again. “I almost wasn’t. I freaked out.” He swallowed hard, this admission even harder. “I still am. What are people going to say to me being here? Your government? To me being a man. To me being here. I mean…”

Cal’s thoughts were spiralling again. What was he saying? He was making all of these assumptions that Kaecilius actually wanted him. Yet again, he lost himself in his head until he felt the intimate touch of Kaecilius’ fingers brushing over his cheek and down his jaw so that he could lift Cal’s chin and allow their eyes to meet.

“My government and people will get used to it. They already face having a sorcerer on the throne. They shall just have to deal with a bisexual one as well.”

Cal’s breath caught in his chest and it was hard to breathe through the hope. “Then…”

“Then I would have you stay with me, if you wish it. As my lover, my partner. My consort if I get my way.”

Cal’s head was reeling. He was on an emotional rollercoaster. How had he gone from being convinced that Kaecilius didn't want him here and considering leaving to being told that Kaecilius wanted him to be his consort. But it didn’t make sense. It hadn’t been that long since Kaecilius had just let him leave with Sarah. If Kaecilius had felt this way at that point, why hadn’t he said anything? Why had he let Cal leave?

Basically, the way Cal saw it, he had two options.

He could either leave because he thought it was the right thing to do, the easiest thing to do not just for himself but for everyone. Or, he could do what he wanted to do more than anything. He could say yes to Kaecilius and a new life. To the one person that he had truly loved with all he had. Cal may have been the one who had been taken as collateral but he had been the one to gain safety, surety and love.

Raising his head, Cal looked into those oh so familiar eyes, not surrounded by the cracked purple and grey but full of warmth and a depth of emotion, all of it directed towards Cal, and he made his decision. Bracing his hands on the arms of the chair, Cal lifted himself to press a kiss to Kaecilius’ lips.

“I wish it. I’m staying, I’m yours.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you would prefer to comment on DW, you can do so here
> 
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